It Is Salvation
by Wildhorses1492
Summary: In England they called the day Christ rose from the dead "Easter." In Narnia, they call the day Aslan returned from the dead "Yianna." In England, it is a day to be remembered, honored; unique. Narnia's is no different. Just as Easter tells us that Christ returned to offer salvation for sin, so Yianna remind Narnians of Aslan's great love for his people – his family.
**_~It Is Salvation~_**

She woke slowly, smiling as the warmth of the spring sun fell over her face from the open balcony. ' _Nimaru must have come in while I was sleeping_ ,' she realized, sitting up in bed and looking toward her dressing table, which had a bowl of clean, warm water on it waiting for her. The birch dryad was a caring maid, and Lucy loved her for it. Her gaze lazily traveled around her airy east-facing room. When it fell on the dress carefully laid over a chair, she remembered what today was and threw her coverlet aside excitedly, putting her bare feet on the floor and hurrying over to her new gown– especially made for this occasion.

As she settled herself at her dressing table, fiddling with her long blonde-brown tresses, Nimaru returned. A serene smile crept across the pale-gold face surrounded with light brown hair that looked far more like thin branches compared to Lucy's soft locks. Beautiful pink rosebuds and white verbena formed a crown on her head, and in her hands were similar flowers for her Queen's hairstyle.

"I cannot believe it has been nine years since Aslan gave His life for all of Narnia and my royal brother. Nimaru, does today not feel different from every other day?" the cheerful queen asked, smiling in the mirror at her maid as the dryad began brushing out her hair.

"Truly, Lucy, it feels rapturous; I could dance the festival dances here in your bedchambers I sense it so keenly. To my innermost rings I feel bursting with Life," the dryad answered gaily, her soft voice almost melodious. Lucy had decided long ago that they would call one another by their given names, and drop formalities.

"I cannot wait until I see Aslan; oh, I miss Him when He leaves us. But I understand why He must depart. It is wonderful that out of all the worlds whirling in the cosmos, He gives time to each of us as if we were the sole being to exist," Lucy marveled, fingering a smooth hair ribbon between her fingers.

"Yes, Milady," Nimaru replied, gently settling flowers in Lucy's hair around the Queen's bright silver circlet.

 **~|:O:|~**

He woke thinking about the many matters he must attend to, when he realized what day it was. Exhilaration rushed through him and he felt more alive than he did practicing with his soldiers on the fields. Nothing could make him feel so revitalized; not even a swim in the brisk Eastern Ocean. No battle, no endowment of a title, could make his heart swell like this. Nothing made him feel braver.

"Aslan, Aslan, Aslan. . . Truly you know my heart!" Peter whispered the Name and the words with a grin in the early quiet of the morning. Momentarily closing his eyes, he felt unburdened from the cares of High King.

As he sat there in bed, thinking about the day that began this celebration so many years ago, a Cheetah nosed its way into the room. "My King, you cannot be late for the morning meal, you know. Is it not a great blessing to put aside all weighty matters and give thanks and praise to the Great Lion?" it asked with a purr.

"Yes, indeed, Mital. I will come down shortly," he replied, pushing the covers aside and standing. Walking over to his desk and wardrobe, he ran his fingers down the fine clothing the tailors had carefully fashioned for him. The fabric was soft under his calloused hands; years of practice and battle with a sword had hardened his palms.

After taking a comb to his thick blond hair, he absently ran a hand over his beard as he thought about Aslan's sacrifice. It meant more to him than anything, and somehow he sensed the Great Lion knew this.

 **~|:O:|~**

She had risen with the sun; she could never keep to her bed on this day. The music danced through her head and she had to bring it to life. When her lady's maid entered her bedchambers, she was fully dressed, but her hair was unbound and fell around her in an onyx cascade as she played her fingers over her lyre. The Narnians loved music, and Susan loved it too. Aslan made her think of music– gloriously wonderful music. She and the court musicians had written many beautiful pieces, though they could not come close to what she heard when she thought of the Great Lion.

"Oh, Queen Susan, you're up?" Heliotrope smiled amiably before bustling over to the Queen's dressing table and pulling long ribbons, brushes, and delicate combs from drawers. She added to them a small bouquet of flowers for the festival hairstyle. Miniature sunflowers, yellow rosebuds, and curly tendrils of ivy were what she'd decided to wreath together to place in Susan's long dark hair.

"I couldn't sleep any longer, Lady Ro," Susan admitted to her maid, affectionately calling her by her nickname. Sometimes – more often than not – Susan was Queen Su and Heliotrope was Lady Ro. They were women of the same age, had no living parents or distant relations, and loved their country with an abiding loyalty. They had become instant friends and companions.

"I understand, my Queen. Who could sleep on such a grave and wildly joyful day?" Lady Ro picked up a brush as Susan carefully wrapped her lyre and walked over to her dressing table.

"Indeed," the Gentle Queen answered. Sitting down, Susan opened her jewelry case and began looking through the brooches and earrings to decide what to wear with her gown. Heliotrope began braiding tiny braids in her mistress's long hair and slipping clasps onto the ends after a few colored glass beads. Momentarily, Susan paused, surveying her maid's work in the mirror. Lady Ro met her mistress's eyes and waited for her to pass judgment.

Tilting her head, Susan inspected the half-finished style. Giving a satisfied smile, she said, "This is lovely; I can only imagine what it shall look like once it is completed."

Nodding happily at her lady's praise, the maid continued her work.

 **~|:O:|~**

He yawned, stretching his arms over his head as he blinked slowly. When his eyes fell on his ceremonial sword and laid out clothes, he smiled. It had been different when he'd been younger; the night before this day he'd always been nervous and excited, knowing what Yianna was about two years after he'd been crowned, when his siblings had told him. Now he slept peacefully the night before, his mind dwelling on Aslan's presence the coming morning. After dressing and brushing down his long wavy hair, he walked over to the curtained balcony– almost identical to his siblings' balconies in their chambers.

Drawing the curtains aside, he closed his eyes as the rising sun warmed his skin; the breeze off the ocean brought the promise of summer on its warm currents. He could not describe this feeling to his siblings, for he was certain they would not understand it. He knew Lucy would try, and Susan would smile as if she did while Peter would pleasantly shrug it off as something beyond him. But that didn't bother him, really. It was enough to know he still had their love and support even after all he'd done. This day reminded him of it, what Aslan had done for him.

It was humbling and empowering, knowing you were loved enough that someone as great and marvelous as Aslan would give His life for you. Edmund felt peace, but welling up was joy and excitement; he wanted to shout to the world that Aslan would be coming, and try to make everyone – from the highest Telmarine to the lowest Calormene – understand his adoration and love of the strange Narnian god who had become his god also.

"Unto you is my trust; in you do I hope. Oh, Aslan, so much have you done for my siblings and I. Surely it cannot be enough that we love you? But I believe it is better not to know the answer to such a question. Who are we that you should care for us? Who am I that you see me in this world? And yet . . . you do." His smile was warm, and his dark eyes sparkled with exhilaration.

"Sire, the morning meal is about to be put on the table; you must join your royal siblings at once!" A young Centaur colt stepped into the chamber, motioning for his king animatedly. Edmund turned. Grinning at the colt, he came away from the balcony.

"Of course, Thaddeus," he replied.

 **{X}**

A Faun ran eagerly into the ballroom of Cair Paravel. Sunlight streamed from the open doorways on the eastern side as the dancers glided to a pause and the four Narnian monarchs grouped together, bright smiles on their faces as the Faun came up before them. Peter nodded for the youngster to speak, and so he did, declaring with no hidden exuberance, "He is here! Aslan!"

The ballroom was filled with the delighted cries of the Narnians, and suddenly, as the sound reached a great cacophony of excitement, a loud roar joined in, though ultimately silencing the noise far more effectively than the monarchs could've hoped to do. Aslan's gold body appeared in the great doorway atop a short flight of wide steps. After he surveyed briefly his people, he nimbly padded down the stairs to join the celebration.

Lucy ran to him, throwing her arms about his neck. "No matter how many years you come, I shall always be waiting to see your face before finding peace of heart," she whispered into his thick mane. He laughed a lion's laugh as she pulled back, looking up at him with a smile.

"Dear one, your hope is unending. I see you have been well since last we met?"

Lucy laughed brightly, keeping her fingers deep in his mane. "Oh, yes, Aslan– yes, yes. But I shall always be better after seeing you."

The Lion turned his head, his golden eyes coming to rest on the others in the ballroom. Peter walked up and knelt before Aslan; looking up at the lion, his blue eyes were filled with absolute joy and contentedness.

"As always, O King, it is a great honor to be in your presence," he admitted.

Growling low in his throat with amusement, Aslan placed his large paw on Peter's shoulder in silent blessing. It was reminisce of the second Yianna, when Aslan had blessed all his people before departing. Peter declared that Aslan blessed him even when he shouldn't, to which the great Lion replied that to freely receive the blessing was the only way to join him eternally in His Country. Then Peter had asked to be blessed a thousand times if it would make him worthy. Aslan answered that the greatest blessing had been given, but he would always rest his paw on Peter's shoulder to remind the young king he was never far from him.

Susan came up to Aslan next, bestowing a soft kiss upon the Lion's face. Aslan put his paw around the Gentle Queen and breathed upon her. "Fare you well, my gentle one, and do not give easily to fearful notions. To shoot a bow is not to be skillful or desirous of war, but to decide to spare life or to take. Be ever-kind, gentle one," the Lion murmured, returning her kiss with his own.

"Yes, Aslan. I will remember your words, for they are the truest ever spoken," she replied.

And then there was some commotion from the crowd. Edmund's tall form carefully made his way through the wall of subjects and stepped out onto the bare space of stone floor between the guests and Aslan, along with the three monarchs who had come to stand beside the Great Lion. Edmund simply stood there, staring at him with an expression Lucy had never seen on her brother's face before. And then, Edmund smiled, slow and soft. It was the simplest way she'd seen yet to greet Aslan. She noticed Susan seemed about to speak, so she lightly touched her arm, giving silent reprimand.

Not seconds after, Edmund began to move closer. He walked up and smoothly fell to his knees before the Lion. "Aslan," he murmured in a voice filled with adoration, solemnity, and humbleness. As easily and naturally as Edmund had come to his knees he embraced the Great Lion, wrapping his arms about his neck and resting his forehead on Aslan's chest.

Though it was simple, many in the crowded ballroom suddenly were reminded of what Aslan had done for their king– what He had done for all of Narnia. Aslan did not want great feasts and celebration or dancing. He wanted what He had just been given. Trust. Steadfast love. Hope. Acknowledgement. Not in songs or heroic deeds or high words of flattery, but with the small, nearly invisible, things in life. The Great Aslan, King of high kings, son of the Emperor-Across-the-Sea, did not want the worship style presented to other gods. He only wanted them to give their heart to Him– entirely. In return for sacrificing His life, for being their Savior.

It seemed no great price, and yet, it was everything.

For the sinner, it was redemption and quiet rest.

For the saint, it was the greatest gift and blessed peace.

It was Salvation. And there was nothing more priceless to be desired.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Sorry it took me so long to post this Easter one-shot, but a lot of crazy stuff happened at my house the past few days; not to mention that the only time I can post chapters or stories is at 2:00 a.m., which is basically the day after the VIP date. Oh well, I did my best and it's all right.**

 **I want to point out that each p.o.v. scene with the siblings is generated from the description C.S. Lewis gave us of how they felt when the Beavers said Aslan's name for the first time. Lucy got that same feeling, since this time she literally just woke up and realized it was a 'rest day'. Peter feels brave and noble; adventurous, almost. Susan plays the music she hears in her head when she thinks of Aslan.**

 **But Edmund's is the only one that's changed. He doesn't feel a ". . _.sensation of mysterious horror. ._ ." he feels peace, amazement, love. He has come to understand how his siblings feel about Aslan because of what Aslan did for him when he least deserved it.**

 **I always find that stunning about Narnia. The Pevensies are basically like the first Christians in the fact that they get to experience what Aslan has done for them by dying. Like the Disciples. Just Amazing.**

 *** _Yianna is a derivative from Inanna, much like Easter is a derivative of Ishtar. Similar but different, I know. I'll start it right off by saying I know that many Christian celebrations are melded with pagan rites and practices, not to mention beliefs. If people want more, then I'll talk in a PM, because this A/N isn't about spewing religious differences. I don't know everything about paganism or mythologies of different cultures or religions. But when I do, I like to incorporate it into my writing, since that adds a level of "believability" to everything._ ***

 **I'll answer questions in a PM or for guest reviews go to my story "Forbidden Desires" since I'll leave a reply in the A/N for ya'll after I post my next chapter.**

 **Happy reading, everyone,**

 **WH**


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